Beauty, Love, Honesty, and Fun
by Shadow Dancer666
Summary: The sixties were the age of youth, as 70 million children from the post-war  WW 2  baby boom became teenagers and young adults. In the midst of this world-changing generation, Mihael Keehl struggles to learn about himself before he heads to Vietnam.
1. Friday

**Author's Notes: **_Well, here's just a little something that I came up with while I've been struggling with _Tattered's _next chapter. It's going to be a pretty short story, not too much plot, but I hope that it will still be enjoyable. Here's my attempt at doing a historical AU! I was trying to be authentic with phrases that people would use during the late 1960's as well as mannerisms, actions, and thoughts. Please have fun with the story!_

_As a side-note, World War II ended in 1945, and this story takes place in 1968, keep that in mind for later on in the story.  
_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or its characters.**

**Warnings: lemon, incest, angst, foul language, nudity, drug usage, discussion of religion, mentions of Vietnam War, AU**

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* * *

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_Do your own thing, wherever you have to do it and whenever you want. Drop out. Leave society as you _

_have known it. Leave it utterly. Blow the mind of every straight person you can reach. _

_Turn them on, if not to drugs, then to beauty, love, honesty, fun."_

**Friday Afternoon**

Stretching out cramped legs, Mihael Keehl took a deep breath of the refreshing mountain air. It was especially welcomed after hours of being cramped in the back of his friend's 1964 Dodge 440 Station Wagon. The four-year-old beast had been packed full of camping gear, clothing, toiletries, and the ever important supply of food and water. Of course, he would have been able to sit in the front seat except for one small detail. His "friend" John had brought along some girl for the trip.

Said girl was currently squealing excitedly about the amount of people who were already at the gathering. John rushed off to pour affection on her, leaving Mihael grumpy, tired, and the only one available to unpack. Jackass. Resigning himself to his fate, the young German began to wander the immediate area in search of a suitable plot of land to set up their tent. Being in the mountains, there wasn't really an even place. Shrugging, he picked a spot and began the laborious work.

"Hey man, do you need some help?"

Looking up in surprise, Mihael saw a total stranger standing in front of him, complete with an afro, headband, and a pair of flares. Glancing at the tent he was currently failing at putting up, he decided that getting a little bit of help wouldn't be so bad. "Sure."

The man jumped in, and within the hour the both of them had put up the tent, gotten everything out of the junker vehicle and had even organized all of the stuff inside of the tent. Wiping the sweat from his dark brow, the man nodded. "Well then, feel free to run off and enjoy yourself here."

"Um, thanks. For the tent, I mean."

"No problem!" With that, the strange man was off to help other newcomers.

"Huh. Are all hippies that nice?" he mumbled to himself before turning to look at the sea of tents that was to his right. The different colors clung to the rolling terrain, and the people walking between them were like neon ants, bustling about slowly but with purpose.

Sitting on the hood of the car, he looked up in between the tree limbs at the blue sky dotted with fluffy cotton balls of clouds. Coming from a more strict family, Mihael had never gotten into the whole hippie movement. Sure, there were wannabe's at his school, but he had been too busy studying. Besides, it wasn't like people wanted to include him into any of their activities. He was a "Nazi" after all.

"Do you mind if we set up camp here?"

Bringing his eyes back down to earth, Mihael was surprised to see two very similar men standing in front of him. Dark hair, dark eyes, and pale skin. But the resemblance between them ended there. One stood tall and was dressed in darker colors where his counterpart had a terrible slouch and was dressed in tattered jeans, thongs, and a white t-shirt with a yellow smiley face on it.

"It's not like I own the place," the blond replied with a shrug. "Camp wherever you want to."

"He's not one of us," the taller of the two snorted. "Probably some sick fuck out looking for a thrill with the ladies."

Sneering, Mihael clenched his fists at his sides. "Listen, I'm just being honest. I don't want to sleep around with any of these used up gals! And it's none of your business why I'm here, anyway!"

"Oh, so you're a homosexual?" the hunched man stated matter-of-factly.

Blood rushed to the young man's face. "N-no! Why the hell would you say that?"

"Ah, a denier. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is L. This here is my brother, B."

Forgetting his anger and embarrassment for a moment, the blond just stared at them. "Elle? Bee? Like, a girl's name? And an animal?"

"No, like the letters in the English alphabet, you motherfucker," B responded, making Mihael wince at his foul language. He would have been whipped within an inch of his life had his strict mother heard such an utterance from his mouth.

"L," the hunched man repeated, this time holding out his forefinger and thumb in the shape of the letter.

Then the two strange men stared at him for a few long seconds before he realized that since they had given out their names, it was only polite to reciprocate the gesture. "Mihael. That's my name." B shuddered and L just grimaced making the quick-tempered youth angry again. "What? What's wrong with my name? I'm an American just like you two, and I can pronounce my name any way that I want to and it doesn't make me a Jew-hater or Nazi!"

"Chill, man," another voice jumped in. A slender Asian man with a blond attached to his arm came around the Volkswagen bus that was currently parked next to John's car. "No one said anything about you hating Jews or being a Nazi."

Looking at the other two, Mello felt his face flush in humiliation again. "Sorry. I mean, I get called those things all the time, and I thought-"

"Tch, just because you're German?" L sighed. "Stupid people say stupid things. No, we just don't like your name."

"What?"

"It's too formal," B explained.

"We shed those names," the newcomer clarified as he strutted over. His auburn hair was impeccable with the bangs swept to the side to reveal his honey colored eyes. Both sideburns grew past his earlobes and the rest of his hair hung just below the collar line. Aviator sunglasses were clipped on the front of his striped button-up shirt and a matching pair of flares. "Here, we take new names, and free ourselves from the old man."

"No more fears about our images, or complacency with the norm," L added.

"Conformity can go to hell," B muttered darkly.

"Okaayyy. Sure."

"My name's Kira. This here's Misa-Misa."

L rolled his eyes and leaned closer. "Her real name is Misa, but she just couldn't remember her flower child name so we made it as easy as possible."

"I got a quick question," Mihael stated. "If you're all anti-conformity and stuff, then why bother asking for my permission to set up camp? Isn't politeness and asking for permission a rule of the greater society? Isn't that what hippies are against?"

The three men in front of him shared a meaningful smile before looking back at him. "Do what you want, when you want, and wherever you want to," L replied cryptically.

"We are our own society," B added, not helping the blond's confusion.

"So, we'll be your neighbors for the weekend," Kira stated, looking down at his clingy and sleepy girlfriend. "And you might want to get some rest. The real party doesn't start until sunset."

Just as they turned away to set up camp, B turned on his heel and stared at Mihael for a long moment. Then, with a slap of fist into his palm he nodded. "Mello. You're name is Mello."

/_/_/_/

"Oh, man this is going to be awesome!" John chattered as he got dressed.

Mihael pointedly stared at the tent flap as he nervously smoothed his perfectly cared for hair. "You seem excited."

"You should be too! Weren't you the one practically begging me to take you along?"

"I didn't beg," he mumbled in embarrassment. The truth was that he_ had_ been ready to get on his knees and beg the only person who had given him a time of the day. "And I am excited."

"Then why are you still dressed like that?" John questioned as he unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt.

Mihael looked down at his high-waisted dress pants and his dress shirt accentuated with a clean-cut tie. His mother had carefully picked out all of his clothes and he had never been one to question her tastes even with all the teasing he got at school. "I don't have to dress like them to observe."

John shook his head. "Mihael, you came here to experience a bit of freedom before being shipped off to Vietnam. How do you plan on experiencing any freedom if you're just going to do all the stuffy stuff your parents made you do?"

The blond just sighed. John was right, but he found it hard to throw away all the years of strict upbringing for one weekend. Yes, that was the whole point of coming, but he still couldn't find the resolve to change. This thought made him remember what those weird neighbors said. They shed off the old man along with their names for the sake of…of whatever the whole hippie movement meant to them. That's where he was puzzled the most. What was the big deal about crazy teens and young adults who wanted to shirk their responsibilities and live for the day? They were nothing but druggies who divulged in free sex and offered nothing back to society.

"I think…I think that I'll just watch tonight," he replied softly, looking up at his friend.

John ruffled his hair a little before heading out. "Well, enjoy your night. I know that me and Lisa will." With that he was gone.

Falling back on his blanket and pillow, Mihael couldn't help but notice how hot it was in his current outfit. It would be nice to wear something a little less constricting, but he didn't own anything else and asking strangers to loan him some clothes was ludicrous. He would just have to make do with what he had. Loosening up the tie around his neck, he leaned to his side and decided to take Kira's advice. Rumors had it that the hippies got really wild at night and he wouldn't want to miss that.

/_/_/_/

"So, care to explain yourself, honey?"

L looked up from the bucket of candies that he was digging through. Boston Baked Beans, Bottle Caps, Candy Button Stips, Chick-O-Stick, Jujubes, Mike & Ike, Parachute Man, Pixie Stix, Chuckles, Smarties, Atomic Fireballs, Mary Jane, Tootsie Rolls, Razzle, Payday, nothing was beyond that sugar hungry mouth. Thus the sickeningly sweet nickname Beyond held for his dearest brother Lawliet.

Finishing a Pixie Stix, L set the tube down and tilted his head cutely. "Whatever do you mean, B?"

"About that German brat," he clarified, dropping himself next to the ever-hungry man. The smell of weed was heavy in the air and B wrinkled his nose. "I told that stupid Misa to take her smoking outside."

"Well, first off, it wasn't her who was smoking in here recently. Second, I had a flash of inspiration and decided to follow along with it."

Snatching a bag of Razzle, B glared at his brother. "Okay, _you _should stop smoking in here. I don't want to be high when I'm driving. Again."

"Try and stop me," L teased.

"So what 'inspiration' did you have?" he asked as he fought to open the Razzle packaging.

"It's about _him_. Mello would be perfect, don't you think?"

"Hmm, I can't see how you got to that conclusion."

"It'll work. Trust me."

Finally tearing the bag open, B dumped the entire contents into his mouth. "Donth I alshways?"

Grinning at the popping sounds coming from his brother's mouth, L leaned in to the open-mouthed invitation and dipped his tongue into the fizzling candy. B immediately closed his mouth around the invading tongue, teasing the fleshy member that was dragging through the jumpy candy. The taste of marijuana mixed with an overload of sugar made the younger brother moan in appreciation and giving L an opportunity to push deeper into the kiss, running his bony fingers through the other's dark hair.

"Ugh, not this again," Kira groaned as he stepped into the comfortable vehicle. "Why is it that every time I walk in on you guys, you're swapping spit?" The brothers ignored the interrupter and L focused on bobbing his head while thrusting his tongue into his younger sibling's mouth. B held him closer, lifting his hips to reveal how excited he already was. "I swear to Buddha, Misa-Misa will flip her wig if she catches you two."

Parting lips, B glared at the brunette. "Shut it and join, or shut it and go find your skank."

Kira curled his lip in dislike. "Misa-Misa's a righteous sex pot. You don't have a right to put her down."

"She's stacked, that's it."

"Well, maybe compared to you, B," L purred. "She's got nothing upstairs."

"Quit dissing her!"

"Aww, Light-kun, it's just teasing," L chuckled.

"Don't call me that," the Asian sighed. "You sound like my sister."

"Would your sister join us?" B questioned as he wiped off some saliva that had slipped down to his chin.

"Absolutely not."

"Would you?" L invited with a waggle of non-existent eyebrows.

"Of course," Kira replied with a hungry smile.

**Friday Evening**

Music was blaring through the mountain in a crash of chaos. There were people playing their own instruments beside the large bonfires, and there were car radios screaming with some of the more popular bands. Even more disturbing, there was a lot of lascivious dancing accompanying the music. Staring in a mixture of embarrassment and curiosity, Mihael sat at the edges of one of the bonfire's orange light and watched as a brunette woman danced practically hip-to-hip with her male partner. Both of them were barefoot and dancing in a primal way, tossing their heads and splaying out their arms like eagle wings. It was entrancing as they danced with sweat presenting a sheen on their exposed skin and the smoke from hundreds of people swirling around them. One by one, more couples began to join the strange contortions, adding their own styles and yet all moving, _pulsing _with the beat of the music.

Another heavy breeze blew by, twisting the excited flames and lifting hair and skirts. Still, they danced on with feet pounding the earth and voices singing to the sky. Biting his lower lip, the young blond wondered how they felt. What was it like to free yourself from shame and to dance like that? What was it like to wear tight clothes and to not mind all the hungry looks being sent your way? How did the girls feel, revealing underwear and not caring? Eager to sleep with anyone and offer them a good time? Trying to imagine it was more than enough to make him blush deeply.

The smell of cooking meat caught his attention amidst the scene of revelry, and his eyes were drawn to a man drinking heavily from a dark bottle and heating some meat over a smaller fire. His head was bobbing to the beat and a trail of the liquid he had been drinking shone against his wiry beard. Hunger, one of man's three greatest desires, took a hold of Mihael, and he wondered if he could buy some of it. The food that awaited him back at the tent couldn't compare to fresh hot meat. Taking a deep breath, he began to make his way to the man, hoping not to attract too much attention. It was dark and with the flickering light of the fire he was hoping that it was enough to disguise his horribly out-of-fashion clothing.

"Um, excuse me," he called to the man currently dancing with his large fork waving in the air. "Excuse me!"

"Wha-? Oh, hey man. How can I help ya?"

Yelling to be heard at all, Mihael leaned closer and forced himself to stay even with the stench of alcohol wafting from the man. "Can I buy some of your meat?"

"My meat?"

"Yes, your meat! It smells good!"

"Hey, what's a panty waist doing here?" a nearby man called out. There were a flock of girls around him and the turned around to laugh at the insult.

Mello flushed red, his color hidden due to the reflection of the flames. "Look, I'm not here for trouble! I was just hungry!"

For some reason this made the whole group burst out laughing and even more eyes were turned to his direction.

"Look at that dude trying to be one of us!"

"Go back home to your mama!"

More laughter, and all at his expense. Fury boiled in his blood as he struggled to keep a straight face. These people weren't different from all the others at home. They all still pointed fingers and laughed at him, mocking him because he was different. All that crap about taking in those who were unique, and sticking out from the crowd were lies. Hippies didn't want you to be different, they just wanted you to be different than those currently in charge. If you didn't blend in with their crowd, they would mock you and kick you out the same.

Something hurt in his chest as he thought that there really was no hope for someone like him. Someone whose blood cursed him and whose desires were far more condemning. Turning on his heel to rush off to the tent, he ran straight into another man. "S-sorry," he muttered with every intention of rushing away, but gloved hands took a strong hold of his shoulders.

"Hey, who's making fun of my friend here?" the stranger yelled none too happily. The crowd quieted down a bit and some of the people began to look a little embarrassed. No one spoke up, so the stranger continued. "Motherfuckers! I invite a friend to party with us, a new one who's interested in the only true way of living and you guys treat him like this?"

Finally looking up at the man who was defending him, Mihael was literally shocked. Blazing red hair framed a young pale face, a face that couldn't disguise the fact that he was probably no older than the blond himself. In the darkness, they other's eyes shone a shocking bright green with a tint of brown and Mihael found his heart racing for reasons other than humiliation.

"Aww, Matt, we're sorry!" a girl called out, looking very remorseful.

"We just thought he was another one of those fuckers who just wanted to make fun of us!" another guy called out.

"Well, he's not!" Matt snapped, pulling Mihael closer. "Never judge a man without giving him an opportunity to show his colors!"

And to the blonde's surprise, the group nodded in obedience. Then, as if it had all been a dream, the music began to play again, hands clapping together, bodies gyrating in the flickering light, and everything was as chaotic as it had been before. Everything was the same, except that Mihael was still being held by a stranger. A stranger who was actually about an inch shorter than he was. Jumping back, he was thankful for the darkness as it covered his blush. "Thanks," he muttered, forgetting that practically nothing could be heard in the din.

Matt offered a strangely heartbreaking smile. The edges of his lips were upturned, one higher than the other, and yet his brilliant eyes seemed empty and distant. It was almost as if they swallowed the light and never reflected it back. Mihael felt his mouth go dry and his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage. Even in the cool mountain air, he felt like he was on fire, burning up from the inside and it was suffocating. Clenching his fists, the young man found himself racing away. Dodging others, jumping over couples rutting on the grass, anything to get away from those poisonous eyes.

Dropping to his knees inside the tent, Mihael found himself clenching his rosary and mouthing out the prayers etched into his mind. The prayers that had been whipped into him, choked down his throat, all for the sake of shoving _those _feelings away. In a night full of the sounds of pounding feet, slapping flesh, sucking mouths, and thrumming fingers, his prayers seemed to fade away, nothing more than a tickle to the leaves shaking above him.

* * *

**Author's Notes: Here's a link to what John's car looks like (take out the spaces): ****http:/ /welovedodges pastpresentandfuture. blogspot. com/2009/04/1964-dodge-440-station-wagon-built-to .html **

"**Flares" refers to bell-bottom pants. It was the hip term for them at this point in the history of America. I went all out and decided to use a lot of 60's slang, so here's the reference that I used if you need some translations (take out the spaces): ****http:/ /cougartown. com/slang. html  
**


	2. Saturday

**Saturday Morning**

Stretching his lanky form in the cool moist air, B groaned as a few of his vertebrae popped into a more comfortable position. There were cooling embers, huddled masses of bodies, and trash everywhere, all covered with the gray of early morning. Looking down at his naked body, he couldn't help but snort in amusement. He forgot to put pants on. Of course, he had nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, there was no one around. Scratching the back of his head, he began to walk among the passed out bodies fully intent on taking a wiz.

"Shameless as always," a familiar voice teased, easily catching his attention.

Looking over his shoulder, he smiled at the face that beamed back at him. "Good to see you too, Matt."

"Still forgetting to wear pants?"

"Still like cock?" B shot back good-naturedly.

A sad smile spread across the brunette's face. "Sure do."

"Still on the make?"

Matt sighed as he leaned against his junkie motorcycle. "I'm not just looking for a fuck, B."

"Hey, it's kind of cold out here," B stated suddenly. "Go sleep with L in the bus."

Smiling gratefully, Matt nodded. The older man always did know when to drop a subject. "Thanks."

/_/_/_/

Not being able to take it anymore, Mihael slipped out of the tent where John and his girl were sleeping in each other's arms. The both of them had stumbled in during the wee hours of the morning and almost committed fornication before bumping into their unfortunate tent-mate. Thankfully, they decided to pity the young blond and instead settled for sleeping naked together. It was disturbing, and Mihael wanted more than anything to be far away.

That's how he found himself sitting inside the cold car with a blanket being his only warmth and comfort. Last night had really been a shock to his system and part of him was glad for it. Being able to see such things at least sated his curiosity and when he went to Vietnam in a few months he would have no regrets. At least, that's what he thought until he ran into that strange young man. Swallowing thickly, he tried to push those images out of his mind, but the attempts were half-hearted at best. Who wouldn't want to remember such an ethereal sight? The feelings that he had been fearing were bubbling up, making his heart ache and his stomach do flips. Those eyes were entrancing, those arms strong and comforting, and that face was nothing short of beautiful.

Moaning quietly, Mihael dug his blunt nails into the flesh of his arms, forcing himself not to do the unforgivable. He would not sin against his body and against his God. The cold should have kept his ugly flesh under control, but it didn't. The heat was eating at him from the inside, torturously slow. It was like an acid, punishingly tearing apart his flesh, mutilating his tender heart. Still, he could endure this. It must be a test, a punishment for lying to his parents and coming to such a sin-saturated place. Of course the Devil would thrust such a desirable male into his path, just waiting for him to stumble. But he would not. He would never give in.

A sharp tap on the driver-side glass made the blond jump up in surprise. Turning around, Mihael found himself staring and his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Standing there besides the station wagon was a very naked B. As in, absolutely stark naked. Birthday suit naked. A complete lack of clothing. Complete with a very sizable, ahem…

"What are you doing in the car?" he asked nonchalantly, as if walking in the nude was a completely natural thing to be doing. Maybe it was?

Trying (unsuccessfully) to tear his eyes away from the flawless body in front of him, the blond found himself stuttering. "Um, I j-just, er, uh, why are you naked?"

B looked down at himself and then looked back up with a bored expression. "I forgot to put my pants on."

"Ah, um, forgot to? Okay."

"Yup. Now, what are you doing in the car?"

"It's just that…well, John and his girl are in the tent, and so-"

"Oh, I know how that goes," B interrupted. "Kira likes to bang that skank at all the inconvenient times. Hey, why don't you stay in the bus with us? It's warmer than out here."

"Th-that's okay, I think-"

"Nope, I won't take that for an answer. I can stand out here all day if you'd like. If not, then get your skinny ass out here and join us. We even have some extra weed if you want some."

Feeling helpless to the will of the odd man standing beside the car, Mihael found himself stepping out with his blanket still wrapped around his body. Standing next to the bare-assed man, he was trembling and flushed, but B didn't seem to mind or care. He just sauntered over to the Volkswagen bus as if they were two close friends just taking a stroll.

Pulling open the door B stepped into the side and then dragged the awkward blond into it as well. Sighing in relief from the warmth, Mihael pulled the door shut behind him and then stood hunched over as he waited for B to make his way over the sleeping and not-sleeping bodies. Misa-Misa and Kira were dead to the world and the closest to the front. L was sprawled out in the center with a strategically placed blanket being his only covering and beside him was-

"Hey, Matt, this is Mello. Mello, this is Matt."

Looking like a deer in the headlights, Mihael just stared at the young man who was currently sucking on a handrolled joint. That crooked smile lifted on his lips as his eyes trailed down the trembling body. "Hi, Mello. Why don't you take a seat by me?"

Looking around for any excuse not to sit next to the grinning man, Mihael tried to keep from blushing too much. Men weren't supposed to blush. Not seeing any other option and not wanting things to get awkward, he crawled over the bodies and took a seat. Up close, he could see that Matt's hair wasn't really red at all. It was an almost auburn color, and the eyes that he thought were green were actually a deep blue. If it weren't for that crooked smile, Mihael could have almost imagined that this person sitting next to him was just some stranger.

"About last night," he murmured, trying to keep his eyes off of the attractive male beside him, "thank you for sticking up for me. Sorry for running off like that."

"It's no problem, man," Matt replied smoothly before take a slow calm drag from his joint. "There was no reason for them to be bothering you." Those blue eyes glanced over at him, spreading Goosebumps wherever they ghosted over the blonde's body. "You're just here to have some fun, aren't you?"

Forcing himself to keep his racing heart under control, Mihael braved a glance at the brunette. "E-exactly. How could you tell?" Out of everyone he had met at this gathering, Matt was the only one who had not accused him of wanting to get laid. And unlike most of the others, he wasn't judgmental or suspicious in the slightest bit.

"To be honest, it was just a feeling."

"A feeling?" the blond asked incredulously.

"Absolutely." Setting aside his smoke, Matt leaned back against a pillow and stared up at the ceiling of the bus, his face conveying nothing but calm enjoyment. "So when did you start going by the name of Mello?"

"I don't really go by that at all," Mihael huffed. "B came up with that all by himself."

"It suits you," Matt whispered, letting his eyes slide shut.

"It's a dumb name."

This time he allowed a chuckle. "It's not dumb! It sounds very hippie."

Wrinkling his nose, Mihael frowned. "But I'm nothing like a hippie. Besides, I can't even really figure out what's the difference between all these people and those on the side of conformity. Both sides are merely fighting to get you to do what they want. If you disagree with them, then they will ridicule you, curse you, and cast you aside. What if you don't fit in either mold?" His voice held a sadness that he refused to admit to himself. "What if you can't be like either of them? What happens to you?"

"Then, you'd be on your way to discovering what exactly the whole hippie movement was founded on. The only true way to live your life."

Glancing over at the two brothers snuggling up (and ignoring the fact that they were both naked), Mihael tried to wrap his mind around what Matt just said. How could moving away from both styles of life be on the road to living one's life? "That doesn't make any sense. People always strive to live their lives according to the norms and what's socially acceptable. If they didn't, then they were removed from society and then their lives were meaningless."

"Says who?" Matt shot back softly, not even bothering to open his eyes. "Who's to say that their lives were meaningless?"

"Well-" Looking back at the brunette, Mihael struggled to come up with an answer. "If you look at history-"

"And who wrote history?"

"Those in control."

"Yes, exactly. Those in control, those people who decided upon the norms of their times. Now, what about Socrates? Didn't he step outside of those norms?"

"And he got killed for it."

That lopsided smile began to raise the corner of Matt's lips again. "Yes, but would you say that he died fulfilled and that his life held meaning?"

"Of course! He's the one who set off a whole new era of philosophy and has impacted millions of lives, even into today!"

"So, he who went outside of the boundaries of what was acceptable to society lived a meaningful life and made a positive impact on millions of billions of lives even after his death?"

The blond stared at the man beside him in wonder. Who was this guy? "How did you…where did you learn to…?"

"To live?" he chuckled, finally revealing those beautiful blue eyes once more. "I had to learn for myself didn't I? After all, only _I _know how to live _my _life. It's mine. Your life is yours, and I can't tell you how to live it."

The words rang on his ears like a draught of crystal water to a parched throat. "I've never heard of such a thing," he whispered in awe, looking at the unassuming man in a new light.

"Of course not. That's not the way to get people to follow along with society's expectations and wishes. Parents tell you what to do 'for your benefit' when it's actually just a ploy to get you to obey them, to submit to their power."

"Wait, if parents don't step in and raise you, then how could they pass down knowledge and morals?"

"Ah, morals," Matt snorted. "The word used by those in a 'higher' authority to get you to do their will when all else fails. Tell me, who makes these rules of morals?"

"God does, of course," Mihael replied shortly. "Who else?"

"And who tells us of the existence of this God?" Matt's eyes were practically dancing with mirth, almost as if he were engaging in a favorite pastime.

"The Bible! Don't you know that?"

"Okay, and who wrote the Bible?"

"Men inspired by the Holy Spirit."

"And who says that they're inspired by this Holy Spirit?"

"The Bible."

"Ah, okay. So, let me get this straight. Men wrote a book and declared that there was the existence of this 'God' and everyone will take what they said at face value because they were 'inspired', also coincidentally, by a spirit being that they claimed inspired them."

"Then how do you explain the fact that the Bible is perfect? It has no flaws at all, and that's not something that could have happened unless there was supernatural intervention!"

"Calm down, babe," Matt soothed, and Mihael was too irked to notice the pet name. "I'm not saying that the Bible isn't some holy book or supernatural, but what I'm saying is what if they're wrong about the nature of this God? No one could actually prove it because we can't see or talk to God, right?"

Pondering over this, he had to nod slowly. "Yes, I suppose that there's no real way to know until we die. But that's why it's called faith. 'It's the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen…'"

"Now that that's settled, I'll go back to the subject of morals. We have to take what these men said on faith. If not, then the whole idea of morals is torn apart. If one were to decide that they could not blindly take the word of men long since dead, then what? What morals could he have to live and guide his life?"

"He'd…well, he'd have to come up with his own morals. But if that happens, what if someone decides that murdering and raping was moral?"

"Nature." The one word reply shocked Mihael. Matt spoke it so effortlessly, as if it were the most natural and logical solution. "How does Nature work? Do lions kill mindlessly? No. Do wolves or tigers or any other predator mindlessly kill the other?"

"No. They don't."

"They kill to feed themselves and their kind. We do the same when we hunt animals or kill things like cows."

Leaning his head back against the wall of the bus, Mihael bit his lip. All of this information was running circles through his mind, assaulting everything that he thought he knew. At first, he thought that Satan had brought this person here to torment him, but now? Peeking at their hands which were now touching and fingers which were softly stroking, he wondered if maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe it was God sending him someone for strength and deeper understanding? "Matt…I have to think about it."

The brunette smiled kindly. "It's okay, Mello. I'd love for you to think about it. All that means is that you were taking my words seriously. To be honest, not many people do. They'll just shake their heads and tell me how crazy I am."

"But it makes sense," the blond protested. "How could they say such a thing?"

"Because it takes them out of their safety zone, out of the life that society has predestined for them. Me? I'd rather make my own life, thank you very much."

"Live my own life, huh? Heh, I've never done that before!" Mihael found himself laughing along with Matt and when their fingers finally intertwined he felt elation and not the disgust he was expecting.

"I'm guessing that you have strict parents?" Matt chuckled. "Mine were too, that's why I hit the road."

"So, where do you live?"

"Oh, wherever the wind takes me," Matt sighed over-dramatically. "I like to follow Nature's ways and I just decided that the wind is blowing in a direction for a reason, so why not follow it?"

"That's so stupid," Mihael giggled, not believing the sound that such a sound was coming from his mouth. It was so…feminine.

"It led me to you, didn't it?" he replied quietly, his lips taking on a more serious line. Those eyes began to examine the blond a little more carefully, tracing over the lines of his face, the curve of his neck and then back up. It was as if he was searching for something and the blond felt himself getting a little self-conscious.

"Um, I guess it did. But, I didn't follow the wind, and I'm here too."

That brought the smile back to the brunette. "It's because you're a non-believer!"

Smiling under the covers, L gave B an I-told-you-so look. B just thumped his older brother on the forehead and then watched in amusement as the boys continued to tease each other shyly, talking, laughing, and occasionally braving a brief stroke of an eager hand. Maybe Mello really was perfect for Matt.

**Saturday Evening**

By the time the sun was setting, Mihael was filled to the brim with a joy that he couldn't even begin to comprehend. He had spent an entire day with the crazy neighbors and had discovered that they weren't completely crazy after all. Matt had been his constant companion in his adventures of stealing all of L's candy, hiding Kira's mirror, and pulling pranks on the helpless Misa-Misa. B remained the only member of their party untouched, mostly because the aura he had assured them of a very painful death should they attempt _anything_. Death was so unbecoming, especially with a full night ahead.

Stretching lazily, Mihael found that he had fallen asleep on Matt's lap. The brunette was still snoozing quietly and the young German couldn't help himself. Reaching out, he let his forefinger ghost across the pouty lip that had been trembling with his heavy breaths. It was just as soft as it looked, and he almost lost his self-control. More than anything else, he wanted to lean forward and capture those lips in his own, but he couldn't gather the courage for that.

So instead, he sat up and went outside of the bus. L was already outside, dressed in the same clothing he wore the day before, and smoking some marijuana. "Care for some?" he offered. He had gotten in a better mood once his candy had been returned.

"I've never smoked before," Mihael responded sheepishly.

"That's no problem. Besides, you're here to experiment and enjoy a different kind of life. Talking about that, we need to get you some bitchin' clothes. Those just scream of panty waist."

"I know," the blond huffed. "And don't insult my mother's choice of clothing for me."

"Take my advice, Mello. Never admit to anyone that your mother still dresses you."

With that agreed upon, L raided Misa-Misa's and Kira's clothes saying that the blond girl was the only one who was thin enough to accommodate pants for Mello and that Kira had so many shirts that he would never notice one missing. The results where a pair of tight black jeans and a black vest.

"This feels weird," Mihael complained as he tried to pull the vest down to cover his exposed midriff. "Shouldn't I wear a shirt under it?"

"Nope," L replied. "You look fine like that. Add a pair of Matt's boots, and you'll be finished."

"I can't walk out like this!"

"You can and you will. Or I will forcibly remove you from this vehicle."

Sighing, Mihael submitted and slipped out of the bus, hoping that no one would really take notice of him. However, no sooner had he slipped on the boots than a girly squeal of delight echoed through the tents on their side.

"I swear to Buddha, you look so good! I can't believe it!"

Turning around, he blushed as Misa-Misa began to draw designs over his body with her bright eyes. "H-hey, you have a boyfriend," he protested.

"So? Misa-Misa will look at any and all eye candy!"

"Wow, you _are _eye candy," a smooth voice whispered in his ear, making him shudder in pleasure.

"Matt," he whispered, looking back over his shoulder.

Thin blue jeans that still hung on his frame loosely, a striped shirt with a fur lined vest over it, motorcycle goggles strapped over his eyes, and what looked like military issued boots. It was a struggle to not start drooling at the sight of the brunette, but Mihael forced himself under control.

"Like what you see, babe?" he teased, striking a pose.

"Y-yeah," Mihael mumbled with a blush. Thankfully, it was already getting too dark to really see the coloration on his cheeks.

"Mello needs to come join the party!" Misa-Misa cried, taking his hand.

"It's Mihael," the blond snapped.

"Aw, but Mello sounds better!"

"No it does not!"

Grabbing his other hand, Matt fell into step with them. "Actually, it's cute. Like I said, it somehow just suits you."

Feeling overly conscious of the fact that a good-looking young man was holding his hand so openly, Mello couldn't bring himself to reply positively or otherwise. Leather was melding into his sweaty palm, making their hands stick together more firmly. Still, he couldn't bring himself to pull away. He didn't want to.

It seemed like the life of the party revolved around the large bonfires, so that's where they headed. Strolling through a mist of marijuana and cigarette smoke, they all made it to an area with exceptionally lively dancing. A few women were even dancing topless, allowing the weakened rays of moonlight to highlight their rounded breasts. Those flailing pieces of flesh didn't interest the blond anymore than a rock would, and even as a woman walking by winked at him, Mello found that nothing caught his attention like the man next to him did. It was intoxicating, and refreshing. Chuckling, he wondered if it was actually just the effects of the drugs entering his system second-hand.

Then Matt was dancing with him. Hands on hips, bangs brushing, and eyes catching glances shyly. For Mello, it was hard to fall into the rhythm, but Matt kept dancing with him. Closing his eyes, he seemed to absorb the secret music into his body and then translate it into head banging, hip swaying, and slow lascivious body rolling. The tambourine was clinking next to them, the random young man singing his heart out. Other voices joined in, echoing through the small dip in the mountainside.

"You're so tense," Matt whispered, pulling the blond closer.

"I don't know how to dance like this," Mello responded back, still trying not to step on his partner's feet.

"It's not something that you learn," the brunette chuckled, his messy hair seeming to flicker with its own inferno. "It's something that you feel. Your body will feel the music, feel the beating hearts, and it will dance. Here, try this." In a swift movement, he had the blonde's backside pulled up against his own body. His stripe-clad arms wrapped protectively around the young German. "Can you feel my heart?" he whispered hotly against a flushed ear.

Swallowing back his nervousness and trying to ignore his obvious arousal, Mello tried to focus on the rapid pounding. Matt's body was so hot, it was overheating him but he couldn't escape. Those arms held him back, that heart called to him. "Dance," it pleaded. "Dance."

"Get your fortune read!" L called out, waving a deck of tarot cards. There were already people at his small stand, but it never hurt to invite those who were standing around. Glancing up at the dancing couple, he felt a smile tug at his lips. He knew that there was something special about Mello, something that would call to Matt. Maybe it was his defenselessness, or even his separation from everyone around him. The boy stuck out like a sore thumb, and Matt could sympathize.

A streaker ran past his booth, twirling around and not bothering to hold his genitals still. Laughter followed him, and even a few catcalls. Taking another puff on his joint, L turned his attention back to his drunken customer. He didn't have the supernatural abilities to see into the future, but he did know how to tell people what they wanted to hear and in a vague enough manner to avoid taking responsibility. Besides, even if he had an angry customer, Beyond was always within arm's reach, and he made an excellent bodyguard.

Mello wasn't sure how exactly it had happened, but after focusing on nothing but the constant thumping of Matt's heart, he realized that he was dancing. For the first time in his life, he was actually dancing. "I…I did it!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Matt, I'm dancing!"

"I know," the brunette purred in his ear, trailing his hands down the lithe and inviting body. His fingers rubbed against the excited nipples, drawing out a moan from blond.

"Ngh, don't," Mello gasped, feeling the other's hands trail further down, squeezing his hips seductively.

"And why not?" Matt teased, letting his fingers dig a little more persistently into the tender flesh. He was burning up inside, desiring for more of this blond than he was getting. It was lust, uncontrollable and raging, burning up his insides and leaving everything exposed and yearning. Besides, he knew it wasn't one-sided. Mello had played along with his flirts, had casted those sinfully yearning eyes at him, and was even dancing so intimately with him. He could feel the arousal oozing off of the young German and it was more than enough for him. Everything felt right, and who was he to forsake Nature's desires?

Feeling lightheaded, Mello found himself being tugged away from the fires and into the more private area within the arms of the forest. Tree branches brushed across his skin roughly, leaving small welts and his feet stumbled over the uneven ground, made more difficult by the hard flesh pulsing between his legs. Suddenly, Matt was pushing him up against a tree and pressing wind bitten lips against his. There was a desperation to the act, as if the brunette was scared that he would run away, and the truth was that he was almost ready to. It was his first kiss, stolen, and yet given freely. A part of him wanted to slap the other and run off to the safety of the fires, but another part was screaming for him to stay, to finally live up to the fact that he had come here to experience all of life before Vietnam would take it away. There was no girl that he wanted, no other man, just the one plundering his mouth.

Digging his fingers into the firm arms holding him against the tree, Mello opened his mouth and surrendered to the heady emotions. Something was hurting and crying, but it wasn't completely in pain. It was in release. Matt pressed more deeply, even going so far as to grind his own hardness against Mello's crotch. The blond couldn't hold back the whimper of pleasure at the contact and his respiration began to increase. Panting as well, Matt looked down at him, a feat only accomplished because the disheveled German had slid down the tree trunk a bit as his legs trembled.

"Oh Mello," he groaned, rubbing their sensitive arousals against each other again.

"Matt!" Mello groaned, trembling dangerously."I c-can't take it! I'll…ungh, I'll-"

"Hold on, love," Matt purred, going down to his knees and nuzzling his face into the jean-covered bulge. "Let me take care of this."

Bark bit into the tender white rear end as Matt yanked down both pants and underwear, eager to taste the other man's flesh. Seeing how hard and excited the flush member was, the brunette didn't waste any time going down on it, letting it hit the back of his throat in one go. This time, Mello couldn't stifle a scream. His blunt well-kept fingernails dug into the dirty moss and lichen, and his head tossed back to bang against tree as Matt began to move back and forth along his shaft. A gloved hand jerked up and began to palm the tightening testicles and with a whimper, Mello shook as his semen spurted into the hot mouth.

Grinning up, Matt allowed the limp member to slip from his wet mouth. Spitting some of the semen/saliva mixture onto his gloved hand, he nodded in satisfaction and smeared the liquid against the very sensitive flesh of Mello's ass. Gasping, Mello looked down nervously. Sure, he had heard crude rumors of what exactly homosexuals would do to engage in sexual intercourse, but this was very real. He was in a compromising position with a young man that he had met barely 24 hours ago, and now the said young man was pushing a leather-encased finger into a most private area.

"I d-don't think-"

"Shhh," Matt soothed curling his finger forward and making the blond squirm uncomfortably. "I don't have any Vaseline on hand, so this'll have to do."

Mello cringed as he realized that Matt still had semen in his mouth. Pulling the intruding forefinger out, Matt dipped his middle and ring finger into his mouth, generously coating the digits with the naturally made lubrication. It was nearly impossible to take in the brunette's expression in the darkness, but Mello could imagine his face contorted in pleasure and it did wonders to stir up his loins even through the nervousness. Looking up towards the sky, the young German noticed for the first time how clearly the stars were twinkling in between the tree branches and leaves. A breeze blew past the two of them, bringing Goosebumps to the naked flesh and a sigh of contentment from the burning youths.

It was beautiful.

There was agonizing pain, but Matt was gentle. Thumbs brushed away tears and lips kissed away cries. However, nothing could ease the burning tears of a virginity taken. Mello was sobbing in German, and Matt swore it was the most adorable thing he had ever heard. That is, it was the most adorable thing he had ever heard until they were both thrashing in pleasure and orgasm produced a sound never heard outside of copulation.

Bugs fluttered around in the cool steaming night, floating up towards the leaf-covered sky.


	3. Sunday

**Sunday Morning**

"Good morning beautiful," a sultry voice whispered, drawing Mello away from the land of dreams and into the hot, stuffy, and very naked arms of Matt. Twisting to the side, the blond gasped in pain, clenching his eyes shut. "Shhh, you don't have to move."

"Does he need some Aspirin?" B asked as his nimble fingers rolled a joint. "Taking it up the ass is a bitch the first time, isn't it Matty-boy?"

"I could use some Aspirin," Mello wheezed, letting his head fall back into the comforting arms of the stranger he had gone all the way with. Even though the position and space was uncomfortable, he didn't want to move away from Matt; he just tried to ignore the brunette's arousal which was digging into his thigh. "How did we get in here?" he mumbled, looking at the interior of the Volkswagen bus. The last thing he remembered was screaming Matt's name as he was fucked against a tree. His backside still stung with the welts and scrapes from the bark.

"It should feel a little better. L went out to get some hot water to dip clothes in. Putting that on your sore areas will really help out." Matt smiled encouragingly, even going so far as to place a delicate kiss on the tip of Mello's nose.

Frowning, things began to click in his mind. "You're…you're not a virgin, are you?" he sighed disappointedly. No one could have performed so wonderfully during his first time; in fact, other than crying and making a lot of noise, Mello couldn't think of anything that he had actually done to add to the experience. "Or rather, you weren't before we had…sex."

"Nope," the brunette shrugged. He didn't seem to notice the blonde's disappointment.

"Alright, I got the water!" L exclaimed as he yanked open the side door. "B, grab the rags."

The pale man lit up his joint before crawling over to his out-of-breath brother. "Yes, mother." They both shared a chuckle before dipping the rags into the steaming water. "Matt, bring him over."

Noticing for the first time that he too was naked, Mello tried to protest, but he was scooped up and moved over to the brothers. "Here you go," Matt chuckled, not minding that his nakedness was in full view.

Mello blushed and averted his eyes. There was no way that he was going to get used to such loose habits. And to think, that that erected beast was what had been shoved into his body. Jerking his eyes back to the stiff member, Mello could help but blurt out, "How did that thing manage to _fit _inside of me?"

Laughing as he sat back on some blankets, Matt allowed his hand to lazily stroke the excited cock. "I'm experienced. We'll leave it at that."

"Would you quit jerking off in my vehicle?" L grumbled as he flipped Mello over and planted a hot rag on the exposed derrière.

Ignoring the hiss of pain coming from the newest member of their clan, Beyond dug a bottle out of his pocket and offered it to the whimpering boy. Really, he couldn't be called a man in any sense of the word. At least, not while he was on the verge of crying. "Aspirin?"

**Sunday Afternoon**

If he was completely honest with himself, Mello would have admitted that he felt guilty. Guilty that he wasn't at Mass, guilty that he had lied to his parents, guilty that he had engaged in intercourse with another man, and guilty that he was still hanging around the mentioned heathen. Matt was currently standing tall with nothing on but his colorful boxers. Even as he was puffing away on a joint, three young ladies were having fun painting his body with large distorted flowers and swirly designs. There were groups of these people, all getting their bodies painted for the fun of it. Well, that and taking a stand on their freedom of expression which not-so-obviously included nudity.

Some men were fully nude, but the majority chose to cover their genitals. Even women decided to partake of the insanity, but all of them chose only to go topless before having recreations of famous paintings brushed across their skins. B's full body paint was more dark and thought-provoking with the American flag dripping with blood while L's seemed to mimic the thought with his Grim Reaper holding the scythe. Compared to the two brothers, Matt's paint job look like a happy carnival full of all the good things in life. The brunette could easily laugh with the artists as they brushed paint over his clothed crotch, could talk and smoke at the same time.

Smiling wistfully, Mello wondered if he could have participated. His sore ass made it difficult to stand for as long a period as would be needed to get painted, but he didn't think that he could be in such a state of undress in front of anyone even if he wanted to. There was only one…no, well, more like five people, excluding his own mother, who had seen him naked and that was only because Light and Misa stumbled into the scene of him getting his ass disinfected with alcohol. It was an unpleasant experience.

"Waddaya think?" Matt asked, his eyes not so subtly running over the blond's figure.

Mello felt a blush rising on his cheeks, and quickly averted his eyes. Why did Matt always make him feel so vulnerable? Years of proper upbringing had shamelessly been thrown out the window in the span of a few hours. Even a righteous fear of God couldn't keep him away from the brunette.

Forcing his eyes back to the still-wet paint job, Mello found himself nodding and smiling. "It's very happy."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yep. It's you. You're always happy."

Tossing the stub of marijuana to the side, Matt sauntered over and leaned down to brush his lips against Mello's. The young German wanted to pull away and run for it, but his legs seemed frozen. Those lips tasted of drugs and candy and they easily held him in place. No one seemed to pay much attention to them, so Mello slowly relaxed until he was enjoying the kiss as well. Matt's tongue slipped between his lips, causing Mello to jerk in surprise, but one of the brunette's hands wrapped delicately around the back of his neck and held him still. The slick flesh teased the insides of his lips before running along his teeth. Trying not to be too nervous, Mello prayed that his quick job of brushing teeth had been good enough and that he didn't have terrible breath. Not that Matt would be able to taste anything with his nicotine-saturated tongue.

Letting slip a soft moan, Mello became even more surprised when Matt deepened the kiss even more. The experienced tongue drew designs across his own overwhelmed tongue, coaxing it into action. A familiar heat began to build between their bodies as Matt patiently coached Mello's mouth in the art of swapping spit.

"Hold it!" an excited voice squealed.

Before either of them had a chance to react, there was a flash and the unmistakable click of a camera. Mello jumped back from Matt in horror, but before he could run off in embarrassment, he collapsed in pain. Matt turned to see a giggling chick in pigtails. His crooked smile curled on his lips and he waved. "Hey, Linda! Long time, no see!"

"Matt!" she exclaimed as she rushed over. "That was _sooo_ cute! Totally out of sight!"

Wincing as he made himself stand, Mello limped over behind the grinning man. "Linda?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, yeah! My name is Linda and me and Matt go way back! We went to school together!"

"She has a habit of speaking in exclamations only," Matt teased with a wink. "And hey, don't you know it's rude to take pictures of your friend kissing his boyfriend?"

Mello blushed as Matt shamelessly took his hand. Even more importantly, Matt had actually called him a _boyfriend_. That meant…well, it meant that they were together. As in, _together_, together. Well, it shouldn't have been surprising considering that they had already had sex.

'_This is going too quickly,'_ Mello thought helplessly to himself.

"Aww, don't be a baby! You've never minded before! Besides, I've got lots of pictures of you doing worse," she shot back with her own wink. "Don't worry, my baby here has seen more of you than a decent girl should."

"You've still got that Mamiya garbage?" Matt laughed.

"Well, _excuse_ me, but this little girl here has been nothing short of wonderful!" Linda gave the camera a pat, as if it were a pet. "You just hate her because she reminds you of what a horrible person you are."

"Oh, like I'm the only easy one here!" Matt shot back, pinching her cheek playfully.

"Man-whore!"

"Slut!"

"Super gay!"

"Bitch!"

Mello rubbed his ear unconsciously, still uncomfortable with the heavy use of such profanity. Matt didn't seem bothered at all by the vulgarity and his hand continued to squeeze the blond's comfortingly.

Linda did a little twirl before sticking her tongue out. "Jerk. I'll send you a copy of this photo when I get it developed!"

"Okay. See you around, Linda."

Just as quickly as she had shown up, the energetic girl was gone. Mello blinked in confusion and then turned back to the brunette. "She's taken pictures…of you doing worse than kissing?"

"Psh, _way _worse. It's because of those darn pictures that I can't forget that orgy I went to two years ago."

"Orgy?" Mello sighed unhappily. Why was he attracted to such an unchaste heathen? "And two years ago? How old are you?"

"Seventeen," Matt replied without hesitation.

"_Seventeen_?" Mello shrieked, pulling his hand out of Matt's. "Seventeen, and you had an orgy t-two years ago?"

The brunette turned to face his shocked boyfriend. "Mello? What's wrong?"

"B-but how could you! You're…you're not even supposed to be out of school, and y-you…you're-!"

"I don't see the problem," Matt insisted, reaching forward and taking a hold of Mello's hands. "It's not really a big deal, babe. Come here, let me explain." Gently he pulled the young German into his arms and pressed a soothing kiss to the trembling lips. Pulling Mello down to the grass, he teased the bruised lips until the blond was calm enough to hear him.

"Explain it, Matt," Mello begged.

For a moment, both young men sat in silence and stared at each other. Even though Matt was covered in carnival colored paints, it didn't take away from his boyish good looks. Just carefully looking over the body of his boyfriend, Mello felt his heart race and his stomach churn; it was like falling in love all over again, and the hysteria of a few moments ago was almost forgotten.

"My dad's a lousy, drunken businessman," Matt started, the usually humorous glint in his eye smothered in seriousness. "He wasn't always like that, but when my mom died from pneumonia, he lost it."

"So, he really loved her?" Mello asked, drawing closer to the brunette.

"Yeah, I guess he did. Well, anyway, he lost it and took to drinking. It got so bad that he would kick me out in the middle of the night and then let me back in when he was half-sober and heading out to work in the morning. Then my old man got remarried to some self-righteous bitch who loved to torment me with all her rules and regulations. By thirteen, I was sick and tired of living with them, so I stole my dad's motorcycle and started life on the road. Basically, the only people who took me in and accepted my choice to run away from home were hippies and people in camps like this one. By fourteen, I finally decided that I liked cock over pussy and by sixteen I was known throughout the circuit for my life philosophy as much as for my cute freckled ass."

Matt gave Mello a wink before leaning in and offering a quick kiss. Accepting the affectionate gesture, Mello tried to wrap his mind around Matt's story. Things like that didn't really happen in real life! But…it obviously did. Matt was right here and it had happened to him.

"I'm sorry," Mello whispered.

"You don't have to be," Matt replied with a shrug. "Actually, I think it's funny how prudish you're being. It's kind of cute."

Blushing, Mello figured that it was only fair to share a little of his upbringing. "I was raised by strict traditional Germans. Um, actually, m-my dad was a Nazi soldier during the war, and he defected to the USA, bringing his wife with him." The words were grated out as if the mere act of speaking caused physical pain. "But he only did it because he had to! He wasn't really a Nazi!" Mello looked to the ground, fearing the judgmental look that Matt could be shooting at him.

"You look like I'm going to hit you, or something."

Looking up in surprise, Mello saw the concerned look on Matt's face. The tension seemed to drain from him and he almost felt guilty for thinking so lowly of Matt. "I'm sorry, Matt, it's just…well people still aren't over what Hitler did. The war wasn't all that long ago, and just because I'm German people think that I'm Hitler's clone. I don't hate Jews, you know."

"Hey, hey, it's okay, babe. You don't look anything like Hitler, and I find it hard to believe that anyone as hot as you would be like that motherfucker."

Mello couldn't help but chuckle. "That's pretty shallow sounding."

"Yeah, but you love me for all my corny sounding lines, don't you?"

"Well, love's a pretty strong word," Mello said softly. No sooner had the words slipped from his lips than Matt pulled away with a distressed look on his face. "What? Are you okay? Matt?"

Forcing a smile on, Matt leaned back towards the panicking blond and shook his head. "It's okay, it's okay. Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Matt! Whatever I said, I'm sorry."

Scratching the back on his neck, Matt shook his head. "Sorry about being touchy, it's just…just that I broke up with someone not too long ago and it hurt pretty badly. His name was Nate, Nate River." Mello squeezed his boyfriend affectionately and the brunette seemed to take some encouragement from that. "I thought that we were both serious about each other, but I came to find out that he was just curious about experimenting with the same gender and once he got bored of me he broke it off."

"That's horrible!" Mello hissed, already disliking this Nate River. How could anyone be cruel enough to toy with Matt's feelings? "I would never do something like that!"

Matt's blue eyes lit up again and he pulled Mello into a passionate kiss. He wasn't sure how such a wonderful person had managed to come across his path at such a perfect moment, but he wasn't going to complain. Sexy as hell, golden hair, wide eyes that would dance between blue and green depending on the surroundings, sensitive, and a little bit of a cry-baby. Mello was absolutely perfect. "Stay with me," he mumbled against the wet panting lips.

"Yes," Mello promised, his mind in a haze. "Yes."

Across the camp a certain dark-eyed brunette was teasing his brother. "Sugar?"

"Yeah?"

"Honey, honey?"

"Oh, Buddha, not this again."

"I just can't believe the loooooveliness of loving you! I just can't believe the woooooonder of this feeling too!"

"Gah!" L cried out as Beyond smothered wet kisses all over his face.

"When I kissed you, boy, I knew how sweet a kiss could be," B chuckled. "Oh, sugar! Honey, honey! Pour a little sugar on it, honey! Pour a little sugar on it, baby!"

Tears were pricking at L's eyes as he laughed even harder, and no matter how hard he tried to be annoyed with his younger brother, he couldn't do it. "What do I do to you, B?"

"You are my candy-boy!" B cooed. "And you got me wanting youuuuu!" His pale wandering hands explained how exactly he wanted L: naked and panting.

"This is never going to get old, is it?" L snickered, as B shoved him into their Volkswagen bus.

"Nope. And neither is that song. It was made for you, you know."

Dragging his younger brother down into a pile of wrinkled blankets with him, L offered a rare genuine smile. "I love you."

Struggling not to blush, B flipped L onto his stomach. "Yeah, yeah…"

Paint rubbed and smeared, adding to the mess the two brothers lovingly created.

**Sunday Evening**

Alcohol did strange things to the mind, Mello decided. Add to that a puff of marijuana, and he was joining the crazy mass of people wildly dancing and singing. Matt laughing at and with him, teasing him into even more public displays of affection. There were some people who left in disgust as the two young men tangled tongues, but Mello couldn't be bothered with noticing, much less caring. Matt openly groped his rear end being careful not to inflict any pain, and Mello couldn't help how aroused he was getting. Besides a loss of inhibition, another "benefit" of alcohol was that even if Matt teased too roughly, Mello was numb and wouldn't feel a thing.

In fact, Mello almost didn't feel the car's bumper digging into the back of his legs until they buckled and he fell on top of the hood of a stranger's long-nosed car. "Matt?" he half-mumbled, half-moaned.

"So motherfucking sexy," the brunette groaned in excitement before plunging his tongue back into the panting heat of Mello's mouth. It was intoxicating to taste of the tainted honey of his mouth and Matt wasn't sure how he had managed to live so long without this stuttering touch, this body so desperate to learn and yet so scared. He wanted to hold Mello tightly, to never let him out of his embrace.

Writhing underneath the ministrations, Mello felt that he was drunk on so much more than the alcohol. Matt was so much more potent, so much more delicious. How was it even possible that a human could taste so divine? How was it possible that such pleasure could be derived from anything on this earth? How could the bliss of being so intimate with anyone, much less a man, top even the promise of the glories of heaven? "Again, M-matt, I want more," he gasped desperately. "Ngh, _more_!"

Eager to please his boyfriend, Matt pinned the blond's arms above his head and lavished attention to the pale neck. Dragging his tongue across the candy necklace that L had placed on the blond for "good luck", Matt could feel the soft rumble of Mello's moans. Dipping his tongue under the candy beads, he pulled the treat into his mouth and munched on a few of them before trailing down to tease at the still-clothed nipples. Mello's arousal was becoming unbearable and Matt could sense it. His hand rubbed against the bulge, teasing it even more, pressing until Mello was nearly in tears again. Those tears which were more precious than pearls. "Is this enough?" he asked, looking up in those wet eyes.

"N-no!" Mello replied, bucking his hips up against Matt's chest. "Please, more!"

Leaning back to show his own arousal, Matt flashed a wicked grin and tugged on his pant zipper. "Me first, babe. Why don't you take care of me first?"

Insecurity bubbled up in those icy green eyes as he watched Matt tug out his impressive cock. He didn't know how to do what Matt wanted him to do, but it would have been unfair to him to keep taking and taking. "I'm not sure how," he whispered.

"Just do like I did yesterday," Matt encouraged.

Sliding off the hood of the car, Mello got on his knees in front of the eager brunette and placed his lips to the tip of the throbbing member. Even with all his experience and sexual exploits, Matt couldn't keep back the moan of appreciation as the hot mouth slowly stretched out over his quivering cock. He was already spilling precum and it felt like his whole body temperature jumped up a few hundred degrees. Wincing at the taste in his mouth, Mello forced himself to keep his mouth over the cock. Trying to remember what had caused such indescribable pleasure was hard, but Mello struggled to remember. It couldn't be all that complicated.

Keeping his lips tightly wrapped around the member, Mello took a tentative suckle. He felt Matt buck into his mouth, so he repeated the move. Then, a swipe of his tongue to the underside, licking right along the prominent vein. Two hands ran through his feminine hair before taking a firm grip and tugging rhythmically with the sucks. It was a new and unusual feeling, not one that he could claim as pleasurable. However, he did like the feeling of his hair being pulled, so he took a deep breath and gave another long suck. No sooner did he open wider to take another breath than Matt bucked particularly hard, hitting the back of Mello's throat. Tears welled in his eyes as he gagged and coughed, and Matt had the decency to pull the swollen cock out of his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry!" Matt apologized breathlessly, stroking Mello's wet cheeks with his thumbs. "I forgot that you were a beginner. You don't know how to deepthroat yet."

"D-deepthroat?" Mello croaked unhappily as he looked up into the apologetic blue eyes.

"Yeah, sorry. Just try swallowing around my dick, okay?"

"Okay."

Wiping the saliva that had run down this chin and throat, Mello steeled himself to try again, this time with at least a little direction. Matt stroked his member a few times before presenting it to the kneeling blond. Curiously, Mello licked the tip before swallowing down the flesh and as his eyes rolled up to watch Matt's reactions, he was rewarded with a red-faced and panting brunette. Matt's eyes squeezed shut even more tightly, Mello noticed, any time his hand came up to hold the cock steady. Grinning, he squeezed the base and gave a light twist, eliciting a gasp and whimper.

"That's it," Matt whispered as he struggled to keep from face-fucking the blond. "J-just like that. Aga-ngh!"

Before he could try anything else, Mello heard a very familiar voice. "Mihael? What the fuck are you doing?"

Jerking away in surprise, Mello didn't have enough time to mind his teeth as he pulled off of the engorged flesh. But Matt doubled over in pain was the least of his worries as he stared wide-eyed at John. His schoolmate stared back at him with an expression of horror mixed with disgust.

"W-wait, it's not what it looks like!" Mihael pleaded, his heart pounding. What if John told his parents? What if John took off immediately and left him stranded? He couldn't just ride home in the Volkswagen bus that reeked of drugs and booze!

"What is it supposed to fucking look like?" Accusation flashed in those dark eyes and Mihael felt fear gripping his guts in an iron fist. "I mean, fucking Buddha, I know that you wanted to experiment around before being shipped off to Vietnam, but _this_? Gay stuff?"

Firm hands gripped his shaking shoulders and spun him around where he was met with furious looking blue eyes. "You were _experimenting_ with me?" The hurt in Matt's voice was like a gun-shot straight to his chest.

'_No, not Matt. Don't let Matt hate me too…'_

"You fucking bitch! You lied to me!" There were tears in his eyes, but Matt wouldn't let them fall. No, _Mihael _didn't deserve to see them, to see how much the betrayal really hurt. "What an idiot I was, falling for your damn…your damn…" Eyes. Face. Hair. Lips. Mouth. Hands. Skin. Voice. Soul. "You're just like Nate!"

It was as if all the air had been sucked right out of him. Mihael let the tears run down his cheeks as Matt shoved him against the car they had been fooling around on only minutes ago. But it was his fault, all his fault. Matt had every right to hate him. John had every right to be disgusted. Because, he was a coward and a failure at anything he did in life. He was no one special, no one who deserved to be loved or cherished. Just another kid who tried to fit in before being mercilessly kicked out.

"And fucking Vietnam?" Turning away in fury, Matt nearly stomped off before turning back and punching Mihael in the face with as much strength as he could muster. "Baby killer," he hissed out venomously before zipping his pants back up and shoving his way through the crowd, disappearing almost instantly.

Blue eyes found John, standing there awkwardly. He looked uncertain, as if he didn't know if he should be feeling sorry or angry. "Look, I'll still take you home, okay? Just…don't look at me. Or talk to me."

Mihael nodded as his eyes fell to the earth directly beneath his feet. Drops of blood from his split lip fell along with the tears, mixing into the black dirt. The choked sobs that shook his entire frame were drowned out by the songs of beauty, love, honesty, and fun.

**Monday morning**

The asphalt highway swept past like the racing stream of a rockslide. Cramped in the back of the station wagon, it was almost like the journey he had made all through Friday morning. Staring at his reflection, Mihael felt sick. The weekend had flown by in a blur of everything wonderful and amazing, but it ended so abruptly. Reality had to come and pop his bubble of happiness, revealing that it was all a shallow and temporary memory. He and Matt hadn't really fallen in love; they had simply succumbed to the flow of things and got carried away. L and B and Kira and even Misa-Misa were simply strangers that he would never see again.

This chapter of his life was closed, to be sealed away and forever forgotten. He would go home, would wash himself of the filth and continue to be the child his parents had trained. He would never lie, never miss Catholic services, and never think unclean thoughts. In a few short weeks he would be shipped off to basic training, and in a few months after that he would be facing combat in the jungles of Vietnam. All to restore his family's honor and to show pride for his country.

And if he was lucky, he would die there.

**Six months later…**

Wet, everything was wet.

Shifting his weapon carefully, blue eyes searched the overgrowth in front of him. Darting eyes looked for any trace of the enemy's presence, even as they looked to his brothers for any signals. There was a village ahead the map had said, but they couldn't see any. Keeping his breath level, Mihael tried to keep his thoughts off of his damp feet or the fact that the leaves were still steaming with humidity. He was choking on the air, but dared not even so much as cough.

In the blink of an eye, the entire scene had shifted. Bullets were flying through the air, grenades were exploding all around kicking up dirt, rocks, and flesh. Shoot, shoot, shoot, and live to fight another day. Red painted the tattered leaves, marking another injury, another death. It was almost all reflexes now, no conscious thought needed. It was the most primal urge to live, to survive.

But if he failed to survive, it was all the same. There were no letters for his parents. No letters to a girl at home. Wiping the gore splashed across his face, Mihael tried not to think that those were actually the remains of a fellow soldier he had grown to care for. If he died, there was only a stack of unsent letters to take back to America. Letters that had no address because the intended receiver never stayed settled anywhere.

**Author's Notes: Linda's camera: http:/ /licm .org .uk/livingImage/Mamiya_CPH_ SLR .html  
**


	4. Epilogue

**Friday Evening**

This time his bike was totaled. As in, there was no way that he could fix it. After a few choice words and a few phone calls, Matt was able to get a ride from none other than his dear old friend, Linda.

"Whatcha do this time?" she giggled as she leaned out of the window of her 1971 Ford Mustang.

Looking down at the bandages and stitches before glancing back up, he shot her a dirty look and hobbled his way to her car. "Shut up, Linda."

"Hey, I'm giving you a ride, man; don't give me shit."

Falling heavily on his seat and rubbing his bruised forehead, the brunette shook his bangs out of his eyes. "Sorry. I'm just tired."

A sympathetic look crossed the girl's face. "It's okay. Is that a concussion you got?"

"Probably. Wait a sec, why aren't you shouting my damn ear off?"

Giggling, Linda straightened up in her seat causing her blouse to tighten more revealingly across her midsection. "It's the doctors' orders. They said that my blood pressure was too high."

"Who the hell knocked you up?"

"No one you know. Anyway, it's been a while, hasn't it? What have you been up to these past few years? The last time I saw you was after I gave you that picture of you and that cutie blond kissing."

Matt's countenance darkened and he turned to face the scenery as it blew by. "I'm tired, Linda. We can talk later."

Matt had tried to forget that weekend with all of his heart. After he broke up with that stuck-up, whiny, clingy _German,_ things just fell apart. He and L had gotten into a heated argument about what happened, with L saying that Matt was at fault for not letting Mello defend himself and for jumping to conclusions. The argument ended with L getting a black eye from an infuriated Matt, and Matt receiving a broken nose courtesy of B. Needless to say, they never talked again. Misa-Misa would be nice anytime they met up, but where B and L were, there was Kira, so Misa-Misa never had much time to chat when she had a boyfriend to keep up with.

On top of losing very dear friends, Matt seemed to have also lost his way in life. It was strange to him, a dark new world that he didn't like at all. For Buddha's sake, he had been living on the road since he was thirteen years old! If there was any point in his life that he should have felt lost, it was then! Not now, not when he had everything going for him. It became harder for him to just follow the wind; anytime he finally got a feel for where it was going, the winds would change directions and send him right back. Always back to that place.

And oh, how he avoided that place.

Linda drove in silence and pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex. All the lights seemed to be on and music roared out of the open windows. Shadows danced across the draperies, as the people inside danced and drank merrily. "Come on, let's go inside."

Getting up stiffly, Matt wondered if Linda was still drinking alcohol. Wasn't that stuff bad for babies? Not that it was any of his concern. Once inside the complex, Linda took him up several flights of stairs, down the hall and into one of the quieter apartments. Walking past the young men and women who were shooting up, Matt was led into a small overly packed bedroom. Pictures hung from every inch of the walls that weren't covered behind piles of boxes and piles of clothes. A small television was propped up in the corner by a cardboard box, the antennae looking like odd rabbit ears.

"Can I sleep here?" Matt found himself asking as he looked longingly at the bed draped in wrinkled sheets that smelled suspiciously of more sex and more drugs.

"Yeah. I'll come in with you after a few hours. You're not going to try to molest a pregnant lady are you?"

"Ew. Don't even say that."

Linda sighed when she realized that her question didn't even bring a smile to Matt's lips. He was simply out of it. In fact, she had heard rumors that Matt had been acting strange for the past few years. It had been obvious to her when she delivered the developed photograph of him and that blond that he hadn't been doing well.

"Alright, Matt. Try to get some rest. Is there anything that I need to get you because of that concussion?"

But Matt wasn't listening anymore. He fell onto the well-worn sheets with a pained groan before closing his eyes. Linda looked over the beaten young man's figure with a frown. If only there was something that she could do to bring him back to the free-spirited devil-may-care brat he had been. Shaking her head, she turned off the light and headed out to get something to eat and drink.

As soon as he was certain that Linda was gone, Matt dared to crack an eye open. At the same time, he stuffed his hand into his fur-lined vest's pocket and pulled out a worn and crumpled picture. How many times had he tried to throw it away? How many times had he screamed in fury to no one in particular as he flung that worthless scrap of paper away, only to run after it and dust it off?

Placing it under the single stream of yellowed light, he stared at the image that haunted and seduced him.

**Saturday Morning**

"No. Bloody motherfucking no."

"Matt, be reasonable! I've gotten you a motherfucking bike! Be grateful and take it!"

"I'm not going back there," he declared as he dabbed alcohol over his road-rashed arm.

"Oh, come on, it's just a camp site! It's not like _he's_ going to be there!"

Blue eyes glared at the short ornery woman. "I just don't want to go there. That's all."

"Well, I don't give a damn! I'm not hauling your fucking ass all around the damn country when you feel like it! You're going to get the fucking bike and then you can go wherever the hell you want!"

"Didn't the doctors say to quit yelling so much, Linda?"

"Damn it!"

If he wasn't so pissed off, Matt might have actually been amused with Linda's reactions. But he had to draw a line. Fuck, he'd rather walk for the rest of his life than go back to that place. Four years. It had been four years since he had gone to that particular camp, four years since he broke it off with that asshole, and four years since he gave up the notion of falling in love.

"How the hell would you know if he's there or not? And, I mean, what the hell does it matter if he's there or not? I'm not fucking worried."

Taking a few deep calming breaths, Linda cocked her hip and tilted her chin. "Don't you dare think that you can fuck with me. I'm not some idiot bimbo. I saw that chemistry, I saw that you were in-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Matt yelled, his electric blue eyes flashing dangerously. "You don't know anything, so just shut the fuck up." Swallowing thickly, Matt glanced at his muddied boots. He had to be realistic whether he wanted to or not, and Linda was right. She wasn't going to take care of him forever. In fact, she probably wouldn't take care of him for the next week. He had to get a new bike, and soon. She had managed to pull the strings of her network and gotten him a free motorcycle, so why was he complaining? Why was he making such a big deal out of that place? It meant nothing. But, the ride would mean freedom. "Okay. Fine. I'll go there, Linda."

"Well, then," she replied with a happy little smile. "I can take you there. If we head out now, we can make it in time for the big evening cookout. There's some rich group of hippies who dodged the draft and they brought a bunch of stuff. How about it?"

Tossing the options around in his head, Matt shrugged. The sooner he got there, the sooner he could leave and be back to his life on the road. "Sure, let's go."

**Saturday Evening**

It was different from how he remembered it. Trees had been cut down to allow for more people, giant cement blocks had been mortared together to form permanent bonfire pits. There were lines painted onto the grass to mark out parking spaces, and newer models of cars in bolder, brighter colors. More people who worshipped the more glamorous and marketed lifestyle of hippies. They didn't believe in the true way. Most of them didn't really believe in anything other than carnal pleasure. How very different from those nights he had spent staring at the stars through the leafy boughs of the trees, communing with his faith. And now, there were gravel paths dug out of the black earth, and bottles strewn across the abused, flattened grass.

But the drugs and alcohol were free and in ample supply, so he could let the substances do their work. He could still dance and talk and drink with the swarm of people. He could still savor the cool night's air thrumming with activity and with carnal cries, freedom of expression. It was good, and he could throw himself into the chaos with abandon. He could choke back the memories and bury them under an avalanche of sensations. Looking around, Matt decided that he needed to get laid. None of the men in his current company were even remotely attractive, so he would have to go hunting.

Before he had a chance to stand and begin his search, a man to his right thrusted out his bearded chin and snarled. "Look who's shown up to the party." The derision was dripping from his beer-soaked words.

Keeping an uninterested expression on his face, Matt glanced up to see army-issued boots that were almost completely worn out, 7-pocket jungle fatigues, and an M65 field jacket. Everything looked worn down and frayed, even the person wearing the clothes. His hair was poorly cut and it hung down past his hunched shoulders. The shadows and the shaggy hair covered most of the soldier's face, but what was showing was typical for soldiers fresh out of Vietnam. Hollow eyes, reflecting nothing and no one, pallid skin, and the ghostly walk of a living dead. A thin duffle bag hung over his right shoulder and Matt barely noticed the fact that this soldier didn't seem to move his left side much at all. He sat and watched as men spat at the passing soldier, throwing out insults and fighting words. But the man just ghosted along, almost as if he wasn't even conscious of his current plane of existence.

"Leave him alone," Matt found himself muttering, not loud enough to actually be heard. For some reason, the black dirt under his feet became quite fascinating. A shadow was cast over his figure and when he looked up, Matt was surprised to see the soldier standing in front of him.

"Are you Matt?" the raspy voice croaked out.

Still surprised, Matt noticed that it was like he was being spoken at, not spoken to. A man to the left spat on the soldier's frayed field jacket, but those eyes never flickered to life. There was no emotion, no nothing. "Yeah," the brunette found himself replying. "I'm Matt. What's it to you?"

Never moving his left arm, the stranger slid the duffel bag off of his shoulder and set it in front of the confused young man. "This is yours."

"Mine? What the fuck are you talking about, man? I haven't been to the war. That's not mine."

"The letters inside are yours."

Letters? Leaning forward, Matt found himself unzipping the wrinkled bag. Why did he care anyway? And yet, as hard as he tried, the brunette couldn't keep the horrible cold lump from swelling up inside of his stomach. There was only one person that he knew who had gone to the war, but there was no reason for that person to have written letters to him. No reason at all.

But…there they were. Staring up at him, wrinkled and worn, yellowed and torn, stained and smeared. Hundreds and hundreds of them. All of the color must have drained from his face, because someone next to him was saying something and shaking his shoulder, but Matt shook the hand off and swallowed thickly.

_From: Mello  
To: Matt_

Struggling to keep breathing evenly, Matt reached out with a trembling hand and pulled up an envelope from the top. "H-how did…where did you get these?" he managed to choke out.

"In Vietnam," the soldier replied heavily. "I had promised to deliver his mail should that day come. See, he couldn't send any of them, because he said that this Matt didn't live anywhere in particular. Well, you're that Matt." The man's lips were trembling, even as he worked so hard to keep his voice level and emotionless. "I guess that I'll be leaving now, seeing as I delivered them."

Before he had a chance to move away, Matt's hand caught a hold of his scuffed jacket sleeve. "Why d-don't you sit for a minute, okay? Just…" Swallowing down the painful lump in his throat, Matt released the man's sleeve and peeled open the letter. It looked as if it had been dumped in water and then set out to dry, but the penned words were still as clear as the starry-night sky.

_Dear Matt,  
Every day, I wonder why I do this to myself. Why do I keep cutting this wound, deeper and deeper until I almost can't stand it anymore? Why do I spend precious moments of rest on writing these letters? They'll never make it to you anyway. In a way, I hope they don't. Maybe it's because I'm scared that you'll just throw them away, that you'll never forgive me. Or maybe I'm afraid of burdening you and holding you back from your life of following the winds._

_I don't have an answer. In all likelihood, I never will…_

The sound of paper tearing and crinkling echoed in Matt's ears, just like that golden voice once did.

_Dear Matt,  
I smoked my first cigarette today. I couldn't help but think of you as I did it. You always made it look so easy…_

_Dear Matt,  
Vietnam is pretty hot, and if the army let me keep my old hair style, my hair would have been a giant frizzy mess. Maybe crew cuts aren't such a bad idea? You know, I'm sure that your messy hair would never fit under our helmets…_

_Dear Matt,  
Don't be alarmed by the blood on this page. I'd get a fresh piece of paper, but it's too much of a luxury right now, so I'll have to make due. The only injury I've managed to sustain during these months of grueling warfare is a branch slap to the face. If you can't guess, the branch won…_

Dried up tear stains made some of them near impossible to read.

_Dear M_,  
I c_n't stop shaking. It's l_ke the wo_d just flipped on its side one day. He die_ next to me, right f_king next to me…_

_Fuck_g hell,_

_I c_n't take it anymore. I _nt to go home, I want to _ee you. I can barely wr_e anything. They had me in the tunnels h_re. Darkness, pitch blackn_. Som_times Charlie puts sna_es to kill us, and ev_y time I go d_n, I think about that. Thinking that death is there in the shadows, waiting for me t_ crawl along…_

Some were long.

_Dear Stranger,  
Sometimes I get bored of calling you Matt. Kira said that we all shed our names and took new ones, so I find myself wondering about your birth name. Would you have ever told me? I even dream about riding on the back of your motorcycle, throwing my hands out and taking deep breaths of the cold air rushing past. We would drive from sunrise to sunset, and then we would park on the side of the road somewhere and make crazy passionate love until we physically couldn't anymore. Don't hate me for my fantasies; they're all that I have out here. _

_Reality is a bullet to the head, a grenade to the body, a knife in the back from dear old Charlie. I'd much rather live away from all of this. Sometimes I'm afraid that I'll start to forget. The heat from the bonfires, the warmth of your skin, your smell surrounding me. Actually, I have a few small scars on my butt from that stupid tree…_

_Dear Matt,  
Do you ever think about me as I think about you? Or was I just another fuck, another notch on your belt? You were my first ever, and still my only one. That has to mean something. Even if I couldn't have the same from you, you were my everything._

_What if Lieutenant Rester reads this? I think that they would throw me out in the front line, or drown me in the river that keeps those mosquitoes breeding. Of course, I'd like to think that all of us soldiers have grown close, almost like brothers, but that line only goes so far. Fags aren't tolerated at all, and I have no doubt that any and all support would be pulled away from me. And yet, I keep writing. Oh, there is one person, who will remain nameless, that has promised to deliver these should I die. He's really the one who forced me into the promise; I was just going to burn these letters…_

_Dear Matt,  
Three years, and I keep going. People in the states won't come and help us out, so I keep doing this. And what do I have back home? My mother? My father? I'm doing what they wanted me to do, I'm serving my country, I'm erasing the shame my family carried all the way back from Germany. There's nothing there for me. If I go home, my parents will undoubtedly send me off somewhere so that I can do more to erase the dishonor on our name. It will never end. So, if I don't have a family to go back to after this and I don't have you, where the hell should I go? _

_It's obvious. I just stay here. I'll fight and fight until either one of two things happen. The war will end or I'll be sent back in a wooden box. At least, if I die, I won't have to worry about things back in the states. I guess I'm hoping that this war doesn't end anytime soon._

_Oh, and there's this little girl who comes to our camp all the time. She's really cute and even though she's missing some teeth, she smiles all the time. Her name is Phan, and both she and her little brother come on over all the time. I think that they like our chocolate candy more than they like us, ha ha. I've picked up a little of the local language from her. It's not as difficult as I thought it would be…_

Some were short.

_Dear Matt,  
I wish that I would die already._

_Dear Matt,  
Come take me home._

_Ma_t,  
I love you. H_re in hell, I know more than ever. I l_ve you._

He was crying; all those tears that he held back for four years were now running down his cheeks. Looking over at the thin, silent soldier, Matt had to ask. "H-how did it happen?"

"Napalm." The single word was spoken with a sort of heaviness that sinks hearts, and it sent a shudder straight through Matt's. He had heard horror stories about what napalm would do in the jungles. "It was an accident, fratricide. Some soldiers were smoking a little too close to the napalm shipment. Mihael went to warn them off, and there was the explosion."

Tugging his own hair painfully, Matt let his eyes blur over as he stared at the four years worth of letters. "Was it quick? Painless?"

This time, there wasn't a quick answer. Haunted eyes danced with firelight. "Napal burns at somewhere between 1,500℉ and 2,200℉ degrees. It feels like hellfire licking at your flesh until suddenly it stops. That's when you get scared, because that's when you know that it's burned clear through two layers of skin. Your bones could be charring, and you wouldn't even know it."

Looking up slowly, Matt felt his breath hitch. The hair was a little dark, but shadows and a lack of washing could account for that. The flesh was drawn over the bones too tightly, but lack of a decent meal could account for that. Lifting his hand to the soldier's face, Matt gently brushed aside the shaggy curtain of hair. Warped flesh met his strangely calm gaze, wrapping around the left eye, down the left side of the straight nose until it trailed down the sharp chin and disappeared on its race down the otherwise pale neck. It was almost as if the flesh itself had been melted under an uneven flame.

Even as grotesque as the sight was, Matt found that he wasn't disturbed one bit. The only thing that bothered him was the thin white scar that made it's indented home on the soldiers lip. "I can't believe it scarred."

"I scar easily."

"Is that so?" he whispered, this time letting his fingers trail along the damaged skin.

Those eyes turned away from the fire and focused on the brunette. "I wasn't playing you, Matt. I never intended to."

Feeling his gaze soften, Matt took in the sunken face. "Why did you come back here? What the hell were you looking to accomplish?"

There were still no signs of emotion save for the trembling lips. "Mihael died in Vietnam. Mello was just looking for a chance to live. Will you take me back?"

Matt pulled away for a moment to examine the soldier. "Mello, I lived seventeen years of my life without you. But you know something? I learned in four short years that I can't live another damn year without you. Motherfucking punk, you caught me." Smiling, Matt cradled Mello's face with his hands and pulled him in for a kiss. No one else existed for him at that moment. Not Linda, not the men he had been drinking with earlier. There was just Mello, whose sweet taste hadn't changed with the passing of time or the hardships of war. Pulling back away, Matt chuckled. "Will you take me back?"

For the first time that evening, a smile broke across those pale lips. "Only if you promise me something. _Never _let go."

For the first time in years, the emptiness was gone. There would be no letting go ever again.

**Sunday Morning**

"Mmmn, ngh, dammit. I don't want to get up."

"You don't have to."

Sweat slicked bodies entwined further as lips met feverishly.

"Babe, fuck knows I'd love to stay here all day with you…"

Lips clicked.

"…but what, Matt? Ngh, mmhph."

"B-but, uh yeah, mnnn, this isn't my car."

"Heh, nice."

Matt pulled away to admire his lover's sleepy green eyes. As much as they wanted to continue making up for the years needlessly spent apart, they would have to take a break sometime. And now was as good time as any. Besides, Linda was probably out looking for him.

"Let's get out of here before the owner shows up."

Nodding, Mello squirmed out of Matt's arms and began the hunt for his clothes. With a yawn, he popped his back loudly and took a hold of his field jacket. Matt was content to watch the blond get dressed with the first rays of the sun streaking across his war-chiseled body. It was hard to imagine that he had been in even better shape before the napalm accident had sent him to hospitals. Even now he could see the damage that had been drawn from four years of continuous warfare. Scars littered his body, but all of the marks were dwarfed by the havoc of the napalm accident; the scar raced down the blond's chest and twisted down to his hip before ending abruptly. Matt could easily see the limited mobility that Mello was left with as he struggled to put on the jacket. Seeing the brunette examining him, Mello frowned.

"Do I disgust you, Matt?"

Smiling, Matt shook his head. "Of course not. We all carry scars, Mello. Some are just more visible than others."

"I won't ever fully recover. In fact, I may never gain full mobility in my arm again."

"It was working just fine last night," Matt teased with a knowing grin. "I mean, seriously, what the hell would you need the other arm for? You can hold onto me with one arm as you ride on the back of my motorcycle just fine, and like I said, it didn't affect sex any. We'll still be able to make love from dusk 'till dawn."

A soft smile touched Mello's lips. "I'll only offer this one more time. If you don't back down this time, I'm going to stick to you like white on rice until one of us finally gives up the ghost. I can leave, right now, and you won't have any obligations. We'll just go our separate ways."

Matt didn't even have to think about it. "Fucking shit Mello, I think you got it backwards. _You're _stuck with me. Not the other way around. Besides, when was the last time you even fucking showered? Huh? Would I sleep with just any hobo that smelled like you do? I don't think so!"

Chuckling, Mello leaned over and kissed the brunette tenderly. "Yeah, I guess not."

The two stumbled out of the unfortunate vehicle. Looking around, Matt took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air as he hefted the worn duffle bag onto his shoulder. Slowly, he let the exhaled air wash over his lips before taking flight in a small puff of fog. Mello looked around the field of vehicles, his cold sharp eyes struggling to hide his discomfort. In the arms of his lover, he was safe and comfortable. However, being out in the open was anything but safe or even remotely comfortable. If he wasn't being persecuted for being a soldier, he would be harassed for being gay. A strong hand took hold of his own, and some of that worry eased away. He wasn't alone anymore.

"So, let's go find Linda, okay? I've got to thank her…"

Smiling up at Matt, Mello nodded.

**A few months later…**

"You'll live a fulfilling life," L mumbled as the bearded hippie nodded distractedly. He was more interested in the imaginary colors flying through the air courtesy of some new processed drug, but the raven-haired man could care less so long as he was getting paid. "Just don't drink and drive. Okay, next!"

B led the man away with a firm grip and watched as his brother slumped further into his seat. He didn't like to see his older brother down in the dumps, especially when it was caused by another man. Granted, Matt was more like a boy than a man, but the separation in their friendship still stung. He ruffled L's hair affectionately before leaning against their old Volkswagen. The sounds of heavy breathing and moaning scarcely made it to his ears, but it was still enough to make him shudder. Imagining Misa-Misa naked was pretty darn gross.

"Can I get my fortune read?" another young punk asked.

L didn't even bother to look at the young man's face. They all became a blur anyway. "Sure. Three dollars up front." The bills slid across the makeshift table before B's hands appeared in his plane of vision and snatched them away. Then the hand dropped in front of him. "You…have a nice looking life line. You'll grow to be old. Um, yes, you see that there? That's also a relationship line of fate. It's crossing along with the happiness line. So you'll be lucky in love."

"Tch, that's pretty vague, isn't it?"

Irritated that he managed to get a sober customer, L finally looked up to shoot a dirty glare at him. Smiling back at him was a wide white smile, a crooked freckled nose, blue eyes, and a messy head of brown hair. At first, L didn't want to believe his eyes. Matt smiling at him? What the-

"Hi, guys." Standing next to Matt was a certain blond that L had been sure he would never see again. His hair was a lot longer and shaggier than he remembered, his clothing was a little more in style, but most astonishing was the look of utter relaxation and contentment on his face. This was not the same boy he had met.

"Mello?"

The blond smiled widely, with some scarring tissue preventing the left side of his lips from pulling back completely. "Long time no see, L. B, it's good to see that you haven't completely forgotten the concept of modesty."

"What can I say?" B chuckled with a shrug. "Even though I have a gift and I'm not afraid to flaunt it, L made me wear pants today."

Jumping up from his curled position on the chair, L knocked over the crude table and gave Mello a large awkward hug. Matt just leaned back in his seat and watched in amusement as his lover was nearly molested to death by the overexcited man. He shared a smile with the much calmer brother and nodded towards the car. "Is Kira banging Misa-Misa?"

"Yup. In my vehicle, nonetheless."

"That sucks."

Both men nodded and then sat in silence as Mello and L began to catch up. Then Matt spoke up again. "I got a car."

"Really? What happened to you being a firm believer in nothing but the freedom of a motorcycle?"

A soft smile curled on his lips as he looked back over at the blond. "Ah, you know how it is. Two on a motorcycle for long periods of time just doesn't work so well. I got this sweet Mustang, a beautiful red one. The seats are pretty cozy; they make long nights a lot more comfortable."

B nodded in appreciation. "So you guys are all good again?"

"Yeah. More than good."

"Vietnam?"

"Yeah. He can't be drafted because of the injury."

"What happened?"

"Napalm."

"Ah."

Mello leaned his hip against Matt's chair and let his hand rest comfortably on his lover's shoulder. The brunette allowed his hand to stroke the pale fingers tenderly, and even joined in with L's conversation. Eventually, B joined in as well and it was like that weekend all those years ago never ended. There was no war, no fights.

Brothers laughed together.

Lovers held hands.

Hearts were healing and happiness was growing.

Friends shared the moment.

In a time or war, discontent, culture shifts, and rebellion, it was important to remind each other that everything was going to be okay. They had each other, they had their lives, and they had functioning vehicles.

_~Fin~_

**Author's Notes: Um, I think that I'll die of sappiness overdose. X_X**

**Thanks for the super-awesome reviews last chapter!I haven't had a chance to reply to them, but I did read them and enjoyed them so very much. I hope that everyone enjoyed this conclusion, even if it's not what I'm known for... BTW, let me know if you totally saw this outcome coming. XD Maybe I was a little too cliche?  
**


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